Good Work Everyone!
The grueling script reading finally wrapped up. "Good work, everyone!"
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the seventh-floor conference room, the red sunset bleeding from the sky began to blanket the forest of skyscrapers. After even snapping the group photo for promotions, the assistant director of Monster City pressed his lips to the funnel-shaped rolled-up script and bellowed.
"Dinner's at [Daebak Grandma's House]! We've got it reserved, so head over now if you can—much appreciated!"
The room erupted in cheerful chaos as people started moving. Leaving behind the production staff tidying up, the actors—tension finally melting away—began heading out in clusters based on their friendships, managers in tow.
"Joo-hyuk, dinner?"
"Yeah, just gotta hit the bathroom first."
"Ah, alright, see you there."
"Sure."
Weaving through the throng, Han Joo-hyuk slipped toward the emergency stairs, accompanied by Manager Yoo from his agency.
Click. Manager Yoo opened the eighth-floor emergency door first.
"Check it out."
He vanished beyond the door, then quickly reappeared, beckoning Han Joo-hyuk urgently.
"Second restroom down the left hall—no one's there; production meeting's got it clear."
"...Thanks."
"If you're grateful, wrap it up quick, punk. I'm craving pork belly."
"Got it."
Han Joo-hyuk bolted down the hall, while Manager Yoo stood watch outside. As always, he ducked into the empty restroom.
The moment the door shut, the expression he'd barely held together crumbled in ruins.
Whoosh— He frantically twisted the faucet, splashing his face roughly with the gushing water. But no matter how many times he scrubbed—splash! splash!—the shame staining his cheeks wouldn't wash away. It was all because of his screw-up earlier.
...Loves parachutes, huh.
Lee Tae-gyu. The guy was an absurd master. A gambling addict mimicking a human? Even with over ten years in the game, Han Joo-hyuk had never played a gambling addict with that kind of nuance...
'Poured his whole life into acting—100%.'
That master's depth was still immeasurable, yet he'd pegged him as a 'talentless parachute' and shot him a glare full of rage. All based on the industry rumors swirling before the drama even started.
So, he'd become just like those pathetic idiots in the smoking room before the reading, spreading distorted rumors about him... He couldn't accept it.
Han Joo-hyuk stared at his reflection in despair. The mirror showed a pitiful small-timer, drenched like a wet rat.
'Damn it.'
In this business, badmouthing actors who snatched your audition role was everyday stuff. So why had he jumped the gun with that glare? Was he really so full of preconceptions? Or did he just hate people based on their status? Thought it was okay because he was a top star? Or...
...Is this the limit of my vessel?
He recalled that morning—whistling cheerfully while picking clothes to draw even more eyes, convinced he'd shine at that table. Monster City's savior pitcher, the star of the script reading. His own pathetic mindset, obsessed with that.
Embarrassing as hell. He'd always aimed to be a cool guy, but this? Just a street thug harassing the real star of the show.
Lee Tae-gyu. What did that master think of him now? Probably some hack with no acting chops, just star fever delusions?
Then he remembered—after his lines ended, Lee Tae-gyu's face shifting like he'd donned a mask. Stiffened, hurt. Had to be; no way to go that expressionless mid-emotional reading otherwise.
Damn it. Suddenly hating himself, Han Joo-hyuk threw his head back.
"Ugh—!"
He slammed his fist into the marble wall beside the mirror. Bam, bam, bam.
A form of self-flagellation. His knuckles reddened instantly, sharp pain shooting through, but he still couldn't forgive his lame actions and mindset from earlier.
Especially not in this sacred realm of acting—
Bang!
"God, you maniac! I said no fists—it echoes outside!"
"Hyung."
"You were fine for a while, why the hell now? Reporters catch wind, and boom—rumors everywhere!"
"I'm quitting acting."
"Sigh, fine, come eat some meat."
"A subhuman like me... how dare I reach that level... I don't even deserve TV time..."
"People are coming—out, punk!"
Manager Yoo dragged him out like it was routine.
Emerging, Han Joo-hyuk flashed normal smiles and greetings at passersby. Manager Yoo shook his head, and they rode the elevator through the lobby and out.
"Hyung."
"What now."
"Can't we snag that guy for our agency? He might not have signed anywhere yet!"
"Who... oh."
Years of synergy let him catch on instantly. He raised his hand toward somewhere outside the station.
"...That guy?"
At his fingertip: Lee Tae-gyu, already swarmed by agency reps handing out cards before dinner even started.
***
A massive barbecue joint in Sangam-dong. At these wrap parties, the assistant director's voice usually boomed loudest. Especially now, with main PD Ji Cheol-geun called away by the station head—he was basically number two.
"Great work, everyone today!"
"Fill the glasses in front of you!"
"To the box-office smash of Monster City, let's cheers big-time!"
Cheers erupted at his booming lead.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Glasses clinked amid sizzling pork belly grills everywhere.
At the corner table, Kwak In-ho downed his soju-packed glass and whispered.
"How many'd you get?"
"Uh... seven or so?"
"From where? Don't pull 'em out here, dummy."
"Mm."
Lee Tae-gyu, who'd started fishing them out, stuffed them back in his pocket. He could guess what Kwak In-ho was after.
"Daeil Entertainment didn't show, at least."
"Damn."
Kwak In-ho scratched his head, tilting it.
"Thought they did... yeah, top dogs skip what they skip."
"That good?"
"Well, industry king. Sign there, you're set anywhere."
Unlike other agencies, Daeil Entertainment—affiliate of the Daeil Group under the Daeil family—was Korea's undisputed number one.
But with massive capital and stable talent pipelines churning out long-running stars, it was every entertainer's dream.
"Especially for a naive monk like you, oblivious to the world—starting there gets you protected and grown easy."
"What about DK Entertainment?"
"They protect too... but build career first. Told you, they're aggressive. Mess up, you'll burn out."
But Lee Tae-gyu pondered saying he'd already tasted DK's spice for six months—maybe not here. Kwak In-ho smirked.
"Anyway, hang tight."
"I'll put you in a spot no one can ignore by finale."
Refilling his glass, Kwak In-ho scanned around. Noise everywhere.
"You can't play a prosecutor like that!"
"Desperate acting—!"
"My eyebrows bug you when I act?"
Everyone spewing acting passion, forgetting it was a party.
...Great vibe.
Kwak In-ho grinned. The Monster City cast's faces had flipped 180 from early reading.
All thanks to the guy now picking pork belly with chopsticks across from him.
...Lee Tae-gyu.
Yeah, fire lit in their eyes post his reading. Rivalry? Inferiority? Shame? Hard to pin, but one thing clear.
We might actually win.
Odds rising. Against MBS's same-slot rival Italian Romance.
He sipped, grimacing—ahh—recalling those bastards.
Romance comedy—the unbeatable genre—plus sports, rising stars Ji Kyung-ho and Joo Min-hee, led by hotshot writer Go Seon-hyeong. They'd squeezed wild support like Italy all-locations from MBS. Kwak In-ho burned to beat them, but honestly hadn't expected much from slot-filler Monster City.
Script was solid, but after long slump doubting his chops—plus Han Joo-hyuk, but they had Ji and Joo.
Not just him; everyone at reading seemed resigned. No rival mentions—not even acknowledging competition with Italian Romance.
Mid-tier actors just padding resumes, staff with no big hopes.
But now? Vibe shifted.
"Who plays a detective like that!"
"I've done thugs three years! Don't know thug-detective vibes?"
"Bullshit's bountiful."
"Even grabbing a butcher knife barehanded—you can't pop eyes like that. Think we ain't done cops?"
"Mid-investigation! Rough's fine, but keep manners!"
"Need different flavor!"
Booze-fueled actors still on character acting. Passion ignited.
Kwak In-ho thought: This could beat Italian Romance.
All because of the guy in front—
"Why you eating like crap today?"
Kwak In-ho eyed him puzzled. Eating pace off from his norm.
Come to think: faint regret on Lee Tae-gyu's face.
"Eating fine."
"Like hell. Worst I've seen you."
Yeah, Tae-gyu was miffed. Pork good, but he'd expected more.
Broadcast folks eat fancier, right...?
Weekend public drama party with actors—figured rare treats. But whining on free grub? Nah. Beat around bush.
"PDs and writers like pork?"
"What?"
"I mean... could do beef."
"Fancy tastes, huh? Hanwoo fan?"
"Not really."
"Oh yeah. You got your fave."
Kwak In-ho chuckled, recalling their first meet—Lee Tae-gyu devouring plates of LA ribs.
"LA—"
Crash!
A bottle shattered behind them.
***
Choi Sung-chul, American-educated DP. Hated pork belly. Not pretty.
Maybe from years abroad, ingrained showiness.
Only mise-en-scène— He didn't like drunk villain actors repeating that either. Scary.
This booze-reeking joint was tough.
"Loved Red Boots! Killer colors!"
"Oh, saw that!"
"Next film, who directing?"
"Even cameo, please. Love your mise-en-scène."
He bowed smiling at rough-faced actors' welcome. Sub-5 faces yapping? Zero persuasion.
Place getting rowdy—time to network. Stood with bottle.
Dream: Hollywood. Needed career boost, prime faces for his mise-en-scène.
Thud. Thud.
Passed Han Joo-hyuk chatting leads. Not enough anymore.
Saw it clear at reading: minimum 9.1 points. Heading to actor fitting his vision.
But weird.
Not narrow network. Remembered all decent faces, male female.
First time seeing that skill and look? Studied abroad?
Whatever. Booze and ask.
Approaching Kwak In-ho and Lee Tae-gyu's table, faint talk drifted.
Face... bad...... Why...? Taste... pricey...... You... like... LA...
Human ears bias to interests in noise. Choi Sung-chul perked up unwittingly—perfect misunderstanding.
...LA?
Thump!
...Hollywood?